


After Me

by j_gabrielle



Category: Jonathan Strange & Mr. Norrell (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Established Relationship, F/M, Hurt/Comfort, Implied Relationship, M/M, Possible Relationship, Post canon, post show
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-10
Updated: 2015-08-10
Packaged: 2018-04-13 23:53:01
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 623
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4542303
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/j_gabrielle/pseuds/j_gabrielle
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>She is as beautiful as he remembers. 'Definitely worth going mad over.' Major Grant thinks quietly as a small replying smile curls her lips.</p>
            </blockquote>





	After Me

"I know you." She says carefully. "Don't I?"

He smiles. The tight line of his rigid shoulders relax at her voice. "In another life. Yes."

She is as beautiful as he remembers. 'Definitely worth going mad over.' Major Grant thinks quietly as a small replying smile curls her lips.

"Major Grant. Of course. Please, join me." She says, moving her parasol aside for him to take the space on the stone bench.

He takes the place offered to him, tilting his head up to the speckled sunshine filtering past the leaves of the tree shading them. "I..."

"I know why you are here." Arabella Strange says, her voice loud in the afternoon lull of noises. "But I'm afraid I am just as lost as you are when it comes to finding a way to bring him back to our world. I have looked and searched and found that there is no way I can help him. I'm sorry, Major Grant."

Grant swallows, turning his face away to hide the emotions he cannot quite control. He has failed. He has... Lost the only thing that matters. Anguished, he presses his knuckle to his mouth, biting back a choked sob.

A gentle hand laid over his startles him. Mrs. Strange unfolds her handkerchief, lifting it to dab at the tears that track down his face. The scent of lilac flowers envelope his senses. Grant gasps at the tenderness he receives. 

"Mrs. Strange..."

She shakes her head, dropping her hand to cover his bite-marked knuckle. "I know what you meant to him. And seeing you here assures me that it is reciprocated."

"He loves you. He truly does. He and I... We. It was wartime. It does not mean-"

Arabella makes a soft noise of protest. Her dark eyes wide and bright. "Do not trivialize my husband's feelings. I beg of you, do not belittle mine either." Her perfect lips part in exhalation of air. "He loves me, that I know. But he loves you too. To have gone through those experiences as you have and not feel something? My husband loves you. That I do not doubt."

Grant takes her hand in his, pressing kisses to the palm of her hand. His voice wavering, he speaks around the knot of emotion in his throat. "I love him." He whispers as if such an admission costs the price of a world. "I. I love him."

Arabella - remarkable, wonderful, divine Arabella - cards her fingers through his hair as he leans down to press his forehead to her lap. "I know. I love him too."

He suppresses the swelling of a cry in his chest. Fisting his hand in the fabric of her skirt, Grant says helplessly, "I do not know what to do with myself. I do not want these...  _emotions in me._ I do not want to feel so constantly exposed. Rubbed raw and let out to dry in the sun. I never thought...  _never thought_ I could ever feel-" _  
_

"I suppose that's what loving Jonathan Strange is. To be scared of it and yet hold it dear and true in your heart."

Grant pushes himself upright. Clearing his throat and making himself presentable again, he slips his hand into Arabella's. "So what now?"

Mrs. Strange turns his head towards the two ladies walking their way. "Emma and Flora have been in correspondence with Childermass. Norrell's man." She clarifies at the look of confusion on his face. "The magicians of England might have a way."

Grant looks out over the garden. "So we go back to England. We find a way to fetch them back from their accursed state. What then?"

She smiles, picking up her parasol with her free hand. "Why don't we find out?"

**Author's Note:**

> I have many feels. Come talk to me 


End file.
